


What works for us

by wolfsan11



Series: Sheith Week Unlimited 2017 [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Day 7: Free Day, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Happy Ending, M/M, Proposals, Sheith Week Unlimited 2017, Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, happy birthday shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 02:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10178159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsan11/pseuds/wolfsan11
Summary: Where seven years in space pass in theblink of an eye, memories tend to stick around. And memories could make you imagine and ache for comfort, for some form of permanence in your life.Or maybe that was just Shiro.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@captainjunta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40captainjunta).



> Dedicated to Ame, the coolest and sweetest, the queen of Sheith fluff. I hope this makes up for the angsty Sheith HCs LOL. Extremely belated Happy Birthday!! ;_;  
> Also dedicated to every heart I destroyed with my last fic? *cough cough*
> 
> TAKE THE FLUFF <3 Comments highly appreciated :)

When Shiro was young, seven had always seemed an exceedingly significant number when it came to the human lifespan. Why _seven_ specifically, he doesn’t remember, but it had been important, in the way that makes complete sense to a young child and none at all for an adult.

The thing is, anything could happen in seven years. A child could be born, begin school and graduate in little more than twice that time. He could gain loved ones and lose loved ones, could become tall and strong and unrecognizable from the image in the crinkled family picture he kept tucked in his pockets.

In seven years, that boy could achieve dreams, could leave the very orbit of earth itself…and he could find so much more than he had expected, until one day, ‘so much’ became ‘too much’ and wonder morphed to horror.

Then it was imprisonment, torture, a child-turned-warrior, forced to fight until skin tore and bones cracked, until he lost sight of himself in the violent need to survive.

And yet, impossibly, he had returned, had regained the unimaginable treasure that was freedom.

Seven years was long; long enough to wipe away all that had become familiar, all that he thought he had known.

Adrift in space, however, seven years is nothing, a mere half of itself when there are only the rarest of indicators to mark the passage of time.

Memories like that tended to stick in one’s mind, tended to be rather eye-opening experiences. And they made one imagine and ache for something a little comforting, for some…permanence to one’s life.

Or maybe that was just Shiro.

* * *

 

He’s the last to reach the control room on their return from the mission, mind dazed, part of him still caught in the sharp reverb of plasma weapons and the rumble of their Lions.

Three clashing extraterrestrial tribes. Voltron swooping in for a ceasefire agreement. Peace and happiness for all. Well, that _had_ been the plan, right until the situation devolved and the true nature of the tribe’s dealings had been revealed: an ambush for their team.

Naturally. Because apparently not everyone was satisfied in a universe without the occasional coup and grab for power.

On days like this, he finds disconnecting himself from the battle becomes just that bit harder, finds himself getting pulled under, unexpectedly.

When he enters the room, his first sight is that of his fellow Paladins, their backs towards him as they face Allura and Coran. There’s an ease to the atmosphere that he finds soothing, that he can’t help but drink in with greed.

Lance is chattering rapidly to Allura, his words filtering through Shiro’s ears, but he’s not paying explicit attention to what’s being said, just lets the words wash over him and wipe away the remnants of the fight.

Pidge slumps against Hunk, the adrenaline crash combined with her night owl tendencies leaving her exhausted. Hunk supports her easily though, an arm secured around her to keep her upright.

And Keith…Keith is on the far right, in the middle of pulling off his helmet. Shiro watches as he pushes his sweaty bangs away from his forehead; traces those familiar shoulders and back and thinks he’s never seen anything more...dependable.

Then Keith turns, and as their eyes meet, the fog in Shiro’s head seems to clear entirely.

Keith is already smiling (he’s been doing that more often these days), but it brightens as he spots Shiro, becomes something more suitably described by those silly old poems his mom used to like, the ones that spoke of choirs and fireworks, candlelight and conversations whispered under the fold of midnight stars.

“Hey. There you are. Did you get stuck in the hangar or something?” Keith asks teasingly, but Shiro hears what he leaves unspoken. He becomes aware of the tightness in his chest only as it disappears then, leaving him feeling oddly buoyant.

“Nah,” he answers, moving forward as he does, “just thought I’d take the Castle’s scenic route.”

When he reaches Keith, their hands meet in the manner that has become so familiar to them, and Keith accepts the kiss to his forehead with only a slight wrinkling of his nose.

“I’m alright,” Shiro whispers against his skin just before he pulls back. It’s a promise and truth rolled in one. Keith regards him for a moment longer, then nods and tucks himself under Shiro’s arm as they line-up again.

* * *

 

When the debriefing is over, Allura bids them to rest and as soon as she and Coran leave, the others begin debating the pros and cons of hanging out in the common room for a while longer (“Lance, Allura _just_ told us to rest, she’ll kill us if she finds out.” “Ah loosen up Hunk, it’s not like she’ll actually act on the threat.” “Uh _, yes she will._ ”).

Shiro declines though, exhausted enough to plead for a good night’s rest, and Keith takes one look at him and begins dragging him off in the direction of their bedroom. Pidge and Lance wave off his apologies easily, while Hunk demands they at least eat before heading to bed.

And then they’re alone, just Keith and Shiro, for what feels like the first time since forever.

They’re quiet as they shuffle slowly through the hall, hands laced together and shoulders brushing with each step, enjoying a rare span of silence with just the two of them. Which Keith then promptly breaks with-

“Hey, Shiro? Happy Birthday.”

Shiro almost doesn’t register the words at first, humming idly to a half-forgotten song. Then it hits him, and he freezes in his tracks, jolting Keith to a stop as well. Keith stumbles a little and turns to face him, a slightly amused slope to his smile.

“What did you say?” Shiro blurts, blinking a few times just to make sure he’s awake and not suddenly caught in some weird fever dream.

Keith’s shoulders lift in a faux-casual shrug, but there’s a brightness to his features as he repeats himself.

“It’s your birthday, so…Happy Birthday. Close enough anyway. According to Pidge’s rough calculations, it’s February 28th…somewhere on Earth.”

Shiro just gapes at him, and Keith falters, begins to fidget under his gaze.

“I, um…don’t exactly have a birthday gift, we didn’t hav-”

“I- no, Keith. That’s…that’s completely okay?” Shiro says, confused, and a little too caught off-guard to respond properly.

It hadn’t been too long since they’d celebrated New Years, and Hunk’s birthday too, so…

 _Seven years,’_ he thinks, bewildered by the realization. _‘I’ve been here for seven years._ ’

He feels a tug at his hand and looks down again at Keith, the younger man stepping closer to him, eyebrows furrowed.

“Is it…should I not have…?”

Shiro shakes his head quickly.

“No, no, it’s fine. I just…I just didn’t expect it, I guess. I mean… _wow_. Seven years in space,” he muses.

He lets the thought roll in his brain, the marking number of his childhood years suddenly relevant again, and he’s shocked to discover just how much it does not bother him.

Shiro is twenty-eight years old and he’s seen more than most adults his age have even dreamt of.

He’s seen the unbound painted skylines of a hundred planets, fallen tetherless into dead space, nearly lost himself in the astral plane, faced the threat of universal domination and helped preserve the delicate balance of countless alien species living as one. Somehow, despite everything that has happened to him, everything that’s been done to _and_ by him, the fact that he’s managed to survive it all is what puzzles him the most.

He’d beaten it. He’d beaten it all, and he’d lived; an achievement and a victory he can finally be proud of.

And when he looks at Keith, he sees the culmination of every choice he’d made, every struggle he’d faced. He sees _good_ , and _precious_ , and everything he loves and it smoothes out the leftover unease in him until he’s calm and centered, his restless core brought to a hushed stillness.

Keith on the other hand still seems worried, so Shiro pulls him close and wraps his tense body in a hug with all the warmth and fondness he can muster.

“Thank you, Keith,” he says quietly, and Keith sighs as he melts into him.

When they pull back from the embrace, Shiro can’t help himself and lets his hand drift to Keith’s jaw, cradling his face as carefully as he can. He runs his thumbs over scars, old and new, their life as Paladins evident in each one. Keith just watches him, eyes soft and crinkled at the corners, so beautiful it makes Shiro’s breath catch in his lungs.

Shiro draws him gently forward until their lips meet in a kiss, warm and chaste. He smiles as Keith leans into him and hums against his lips, his hands settling on Shiro’s waist.

When he moves back, Keith follows, plants another kiss at the corner of his mouth and Shiro laughs, consumed by an airiness that has become easier and easier to find of late.

He buries his nose in the younger man’s neck, heart swelling at the abrupt giggle it incites. It’s only for a moment before Keith pushes his face away in protest.

This is Keith. The man in his arms, the man he loves, the man who kisses him after battles and remembers idle things like his birthday. His badass Red Paladin of Voltron, destroyer of Galran fleets, reckless challenger of tyrannical emperors, who gets ticklish from a mere brush against the neck.

Right then, it does not even occur to him to think it over. The words spill from him, simple yet weighted with certainty:

“Keith...Marry me?”

Keith goes still in his arms, huffing a loud and startled breath against Shiro’s collarbone. The arms around him slacken for just a moment, and then encircle him again, tighter this time. Shiro stays quiet, feels Keith’s heart rate pick up against his own chest with how close they are pressed together.

“I’m supposed to give _you_ a gift,” Keith murmurs, “Isn’t that how birthdays usually work?”

Shiro’s eyes sting, relief and joy melding into a lump in his throat.

“So is that a yes?” he asks, and despite himself, he feels his own heart racing faster. Keith’s hair brushes against his cheek as he nods, once, twice, endless times.

“Yeah,” Keith says softly, “Of course I’ll marry you. You don’t even have to ask me that”.

_'Oh.’_

Well, that was…But all the same…

“Oh,” he says aloud.

Shiro pretends his vision is not blurring with tears, but of course, Keith knows anyway.

“Sap,” Keith accuses shakily, pressing a kiss to his jaw. Shiro laughs again, a strained, wet kind of laugh that has him hiding his face into Keith’s hair.

“Can you blame me? The love of my life just said he’d marry me.”

Keith lets out the oddest noise and proceeds to crush his ribs with his arms.

That’s how the others find them, wrapped up in each other and crying. They’re clearly alarmed, right until Shiro turns towards them, face aching with how wide he’s grinning.

“Keith said he’d marry me,” he announces, giddy enough his voice goes up a few octaves. Then he says it again, because of how incredible it sounds out loud.

“What?!”

Pidge whoops and bounds over to hug them excitedly while Hunk begins congratulating them in a rather choked up manner, eyes filling up alarmingly fast. Lance laughs even as he makes his way over and pats them on the back.

“Yeah, well, that was _supremely_ unsurprising. You _have_ seen the way Keith looks at you, right, Shiro? Goo goo eyes on full thrusters, man.”

Keith scowls and ducks his head as he fights a furious blush. The others chuckle and Shiro drapes an arm over Keith’s shoulder, pulling him into a sideways hug.

“It’s a little hard to miss, I guess, since I’ve been doing the same for years,” he says with a shy grin.

There’s a slight pause, then all at once it’s a cacophony of loud ‘aaawwwww’s and good-natured ribbing. Keith groans and rolls his eyes, but his fingers twine around Shiro’s and hold on tight, which is all Shiro needs.

Together, the five of them turn and begin to head towards their rooms, the trio leading and bickering the whole way. And if Shiro takes the opportunity to press kisses to Keith’s knuckles over and over, just to see him laugh and turn pink, well…He’s allowed to fuss over his fiancé right?

* * *

 

When Shiro was young, the number seven had mattered to him in the way that made complete sense to a young child and none at all for an adult.

At twenty-eight, he knows the child him had had the right idea.

A lot could change in seven years. A lot could be gained in that time, much as he had done.

And if he were to use one word to describe himself now (fingers laced with Keith’s, wedding bands lit by the gleam of stars, a kiss pressed to a cheek), then he would easily settle on…contented.

**Author's Note:**

> The birthday that Shiro deserved LOL
> 
> HMU @wolfsan11 on twitter, scream at me about whatever, it's cool


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